In Due Time
by QuasiOuster
Summary: Set between seasons 3 and 4. When Daryl and Michonne start doing runs together, they don't anticipate the connection that will develop between them. But the stability of life at the prison also creates challenges for their friendship.
1. Chapter 1

**_Author's Note: This comes from another prompt by my beta who I'm convinced is holding my other stories hostage in exchange for doing her bidding. I normally don't write topical stories in the middle of a season because our understanding of the characters changes from week to week. But I did my best to keep things as canon as possible. Also, since it's a loving service to my beta that I mostly wrote over a few days last week, all editing mistakes and oversights are mine. Apologies for that. _**

**_Of course, I do not profit from or own any part of The Walking Dead._**

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**Chapter One: Inquiries Part I**

"What do you two _do_ out there?"

Daryl and Carol were talking about the supply run he was leaving for in the morning. Hershel had compiled a list of things the group still needed to scavenge for and the council made up a plan for searching the surrounding area to procure them. So far, the idea was to do a series of runs, each targeting a different category of items: building materials, pharmaceuticals, clothes and insulation, et cetera. Because of the shorter days in the season, it was best to organize quick, efficient trips, just Daryl and Michonne who could get in and out with the most stealth and least amount of worry. They'd been out together before a few times and everyone agreed they were a good team.

At Carol's question, Daryl squinted up at her from where he sat finishing his lunch, soothed by the idle movement of her rinsing and wiping down the pile of dishes in front of her. She tried to make the inquiry sound casual but Daryl knew her well enough to sense the curiosity behind her words. He hoped she wasn't about to get all nosy on him. It was a kindness that she cared but he wasn't exactly a sharer as she was well aware.

"Nothin' special," he said, taking another bite and leaning over his plate. "Go find stuff we need and come back with it."

"No, I get that part. I mean, what do you talk about? How do you go about getting things done?" She concentrated on wiping at the dripping plate in her hand.

Daryl shrugged. "Aint much to it. Just go about doin' what we gotta do." To him, it was a silly thing to ask about. Carol was on the council, same as him. She approved the trips he did with Michonne as did Glenn and Sasha and Hershel.

"You two have been running off together more often lately. That's an awful lot of time to spend with someone. You must have gotten to know each other better."

Now her questions were starting to make Daryl uncomfortable. "Aint exactly slippin' out to the ice house for a beer. Who else gon' go for supplies?" Daryl frowned. "Why are you askin' 'bout this anyways? You know all about our runs."

"I wouldn't say I know _all_ about them. It's just the two of you. All alone for hours at a time; all day, in fact."

She smiled at him in that way of hers; it always made him feel a little warmer for the playfulness of it. For so long he'd only known a sad, damaged version of her and it was nice to see a lightness amidst all that pain. But it also meant she was up to something under that sweet demeanor. Before he'd know what's what, she'd stick him with some shitty chore she couldn't pawn off on anyone else. Submerging some cups into her bucket of water, she scrutinized him before returning to her work. "Do you play car games or listen to music?" She paused wiping down a mug. "Do you talk about stuff?"

He was back to being uncomfortable.

"Why you so interested in Michonne all of a sudden?" He scraped his fork along the plate but waited to take the last bite. "'Cause it sounds like you're fishin' for some dirt?"

Carol scoffed. "I'm not looking for any dirt, I'm just curious. And you guys spend a lot of time together so I just wonder how that's going." She continued to nonchalantly rinse and wipe down her pile of dishes, non-threatening, encouraging without exerting pressure. She was getting too good at handling him, Daryl thought.

He figured this was one of those situations where there was a whole other conversation going on from the one they were supposed to be having. Pretty much anything he said was going to be trouble. He couldn't blame her too much for asking though. If she was hanging around some new guy all the time, he'd want to know everything about the situation so he could keep her protected. Knowing Carol this long, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she was similarly vigilant about him.

Understanding it didn't mean he had to like where this was going.

He and Michonne were pretty cool with each other. He liked going on runs with her because he didn't have to worry about protecting her. Hell, she watched his back better than anyone. And like him, she was an up-front kind of person who didn't waste her words. So when they went out together, they spent a lot of time in comfortable silence. That's probably not what Carol wanted to hear.

The truth was, they did talk sometimes, not a lot and not extensively but their conversations were weighty. They had talked about Merle some, Michonne telling him about those last moments of his life. She thought it was important that he knew how much he'd meant to his brother, whatever flawed relationship they'd had before then. Despite her dislike, she'd been surprisingly sympathetic towards the elder Dixon. Daryl didn't have to tell her what kind of childhood they'd had, she'd just known. And there was an understanding of what that kind of life could do to a person.

Likewise, she'd shared some of her pent up anger over what the Governor had done to his own people and theirs too. She had difficult regrets about those last couple of weeks, so much guilt and rage that she kept coiled inside, driving her zealous quest to find him. As the days turned into weeks, as she became closer to a select few in the group and more devoted to serving the community, those relentless emotions extended to protecting what they were building. She wanted to keep everyone safe and that meant taking out the threat that had killed so many of their own in cold blood, both at the prison and from Woodbury.

They also talked about stupid shit too, like the little dramas going on at the prison or the crazy things they'd sometimes come across during their looting. Although he was Daryl's friend, somehow, she'd heard before he did about Tyreese's recent flirtations with a woman from Woodbury. He remembered the non-verbal dressing down he got for his crack about women being busybodies.

It was a quick friendship but it was still new and fragile. He'd never had a friend like her, so alike in temperament and ambition even as they were so opposite in every other way. He wasn't about to spoil it by telling her business, even for Carol who he was closer to than anyone in his entire life, including his own brother. So instead, he chose to keep his response to Carol as simple as possible.

"It's goin' fine with me and Michonne." He grinned at her as he took the last bite of his meal and handed his plate over. They stared each other down, Carol wanting more information and Daryl refusing to comply.

She smirked and took the dish from him. "Okay, I get it. I'll stop prying. You know I worry about you and that extends to worrying about who you spend your time with."

"I spend plenty 'a time with Rick and Tyreese too. Don't hear you askin' 'bout them so much."

"Well, I already know Rick. And I'm getting to know Tyreese along with everyone else. He's the friendly type. Michonne, not so much."

"She aint disrespectful to nobody," Daryl defended. Sure she wasn't all warm and fuzzy but she wasn't ever mean, just reserved. And she was funny when she wanted to be with a dry humor that had cracked him up a few times.

Carol laughed at his reaction. "Sorry. I didn't mean to speak badly of your buddy." Daryl shook his head and licked the crumbs from his fingers as he stood up.

"Quit it," he chastised her gently. He'd had enough teasing for one sitting. "I talk to her enough to know she's had it rough; rougher than us 'cause at least we had each other. And she's a private person so she'll open up when she's ready. Just give her some time."

In fact, Daryl was pretty sure that as difficult as it was for Michonne, she was already making a modest effort. She and Carl had been pretty tight since that run to his hometown and Rick had a way with her too. He wondered at times about the latter relationship but it wasn't his business so he didn't bring it up. Things were good between Michonne and the Greene family as well. Maggie and Glenn had always carried a soft spot for the woman who had informed Rick about their kidnapping. Beth seemed fascinated by her and there was something about Michonne that Hershel found endearing, although that was probably true of the old man and pretty much everyone in the group.

Carol stacked the last of the dishes and draped the damp rag over her shoulder. "Well, you two always get the job done and get back in one piece. I suppose that's good enough for me." Daryl nodded and turned to leave. "Still, be careful out there. Both of you." Her words were a nice gesture that spoke volumes about her respect for their friendship. Really, he'd expect no less coming from her. These days, Carol was tough but she was loyal. If Daryl was fine with her then so was she.

"Count on it." He grabbed the bucket of dirty water to take to Rick and the rest of the grounds crew. "See ya when I get back."

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_**FYI, each two chapters of this story should be considered one part of a pair that occurs around the same time. I broke them up for ease of reading. The companion to this will be up later on tonight. **_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Inquiries Part II**

Michonne waved up to Maggie in the guard tower and headed towards the prison complex. There were a few things the younger woman had requested for the next day's run and Michonne had stopped by during her watch to double-check that she had all the right information. They'd kept each other company for a while after, idly chatting about what Michonne had seen outside the prison and how things were going inside. They were building a nice rapport that Michonne could reluctantly admit to enjoying.

She had to keep reminding herself that she'd made a commitment to stay with these people and needed to make an effort. It was difficult at times but her burgeoning relationship with Maggie made it easier. The depths to which she'd sunk weren't a place you came back from with the snap of a finger. There were days that her morale came close to buckling under the sadness and despair of this new world, the loneliness and anger a weight she couldn't lift for another day, much less a lifetime. Those moments were becoming fewer and farther between, yet never far from overwhelming her reality.

Spotting a figure in the distance, Michonne recognized another person who had made her transition smoother than it otherwise could have been. Changing directions, she walked towards Rick and offered a greeting.

"Hey," he drawled, heading towards the pen he was building for the pigs they'd found the week before. "Did I hear right that you and Daryl are headed out again tomorrow?"

She stopped at the edge of the space he'd cleared, letting him move around freely to do what he needed. "Yeah, we're going to ride south this time; hit up some stops quick and neat before heading back."

"I guess I don't have to tell you to be careful. You two are pretty good at gettin' the job done." Rick's gaze lingered, suggesting his thoughts went deeper than what he'd just shared. She was getting better at reading him. It was easier the farther he retreated from the darkness he'd let take over his heart. She envied his ability to heal, no doubt motivated by a commitment to being a good father for Carl and Judith.

Being responsible for a child changed everything. If she wanted to maintain any sense of sanity, Michonne couldn't spend much time contemplating that truth and how her life was so different for it.

She and Rick had a comfortable relationship because one had a sense of the pains the other had experienced without needing to talk it to death. Acknowledging the similarity was enough. However, as much as she considered him a friend, she didn't like the idea that he was holding out on her. Cocking her head to the side, she watched him work, wondering if he'd end up voicing whatever concern he'd been pondering a moment before.

"Okay, what are you not saying?" When he faced her again, wearing a hint of a smile, Michonne placed her hands on her hips and scowled.

Rick didn't get intimidated, opting for amusement over fear. "I'm not hidin' anything. I'm just glad you two are workin' so well together."

"Did you think there'd be a problem?" Since that ill-fated offer from the Governor, Rick made a point of always being straight with her. If he thought she and Daryl were going to get into it on the road, he surely would have said something. Or so she'd thought.

Rick shook his head and threw some loose wooden slats into a pile. "Naw. Thought you'd work out fine. I'm just happy to see it is all. You two have a lot in common so it makes sense. And we could all use more friends in this world."

Michonne winced at his lack of subtlety but relaxed at the explanation. She moved forward to help him space out the materials he'd gathered. "He's alright. He hogs the CD player and smacks when he eats but otherwise his company is tolerable."

"Only 'tolerable'?"

Michonne grinned at Rick's skeptical tone. "He has his moments." They both laughed and continued spreading out the wooden planks. It was sufficient confirmation that, all things considered, she and Daryl got along just fine.

Michonne thought of Daryl as the most capable of anyone at the prison, fearless and devoted to preserving what they'd built. Michonne admired that about him. That he was Merle's brother often seemed strange given how different the two men were in such important ways. While Merle had undoubtedly loved his brother, there was no true redemption for a man who would so freely chose cruelty over common sense. He was the stereotypical redneck, racist asshole she'd been warned to steer clear of all her life. On the other hand, while Daryl had gone through a period of distrust, understandably, she never got the sense that he disliked her for any other reason than that she was a dangerous stranger. And when she'd made her loyalties clear, he'd been one of the first to give her a chance, listening to her ideas for fortifying the prison and showing such silent, steady compassion at Andrea's death.

She wondered if his open attitude was guilt over a willingness to fulfill the Governor's bargain. When he'd returned from discovering what Merle had done, he came to her that night and apologized in that awkward but genuine way of his. They'd even spoken about the situation recently on one of their runs. After all that had gone down, he realized he couldn't be anybody's henchman anymore, not even for Rick who he respected and thought of as a brother. If it didn't sound like the right thing to do, then he wasn't the one to be doing it. He'd reflected on that decision in deciding to step up and take more responsibility in the group. The assurance that she felt better for having him in that role was sincerely delivered.

Rick's movement to her left returned her attention to the task at hand and the train of conversation her friend insisted on pursuing. "Daryl's a good guy; been through a lot. Finding people to trust made things better for him, kinda like someone else I'm gettin' to know." Michonne huffed at the suggestion but with a sparkle in her eye. "It's good for the both of ya to hang out and learn from each other."

Michonne gave him her perfected bullshit-sensing expression. It wasn't a secret to her how abrasive she came across. It's not how she set out to be; it was the way she _had_ to be for a long time, even when she'd traveled with Andrea. She wasn't an ogre though and, honestly, she wasn't sure Daryl was best source for improving her social skills.

"I wouldn't go that far. We don't even know each other that well yet."

"See, there's a 'yet'," Rick said, pointing at her before grabbing another piece of wood. "You'll get there. We'll likely need plenty of runs before the snow sets in. That's lots of opportunity to get to know each other better."

From the suggestion of Rick's words, Michonne wasn't so sure she liked what he was implying. She and Daryl were becoming more comfortable together, sure. Friendly even. But that was the extent of it. There was little reason to think she'd allow herself to become too close with anyone again, as good friends or anything more. One thing she did appreciate about Daryl was that he respected her privacy and didn't ever push her to give more than she was capable, unlike what her present companion was doing at the moment. There was an implicit acceptance that she would come around in her own time. In return, she was beginning to trust him with her thoughts knowing nothing they talked about would go further than the two of them. Even at the prison he wasn't overly familiar, preferring to explore their developing camaraderie in their own company. And if Rick was suggesting anything more between them, he was barking up the wrong tree. Daryl was spoken for in the intimacy department from what Michonne could tell.

"I think you better stick to your pigs, Farmer Grimes," Michonne finally replied.

Rick shrugged. "I know what I'm talking about here. You two are what they call kindred spirits."

Rolling her eyes, Michonne dropped the wooden beams cradled in her arms. "Now I know you've been out in the sun too long. You're thinking of Carol."

Rick paused and thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, I can see that too. They've gone through similar types of things in their lives so they recognize each other's hardships." Only Maggie had ever mentioned any details about the histories of the group members she knew, although not in a gossipy way. What she hadn't revealed about them, Michonne was good at guessing. "They needed each other back when we were lookin' for Carol's daughter. More so after losing Sophia like we did."

A darkness crossed Rick's eyes at the memory and, as a distraction, he turned to re-lay the plank he'd just dropped.

"Anyway," he continued, rising. "They're like family to each other now. We all are." His eyes remained fixed on hers, trying to convey some deeper meaning but Michonne wasn't ready to hear that kind of talk with regards to her. She still needed more time.

"I think they're a little bit more than family," Michonne offered.

Rick features shifted into an unreadable expression. "Ya think so, do ya?" It was almost as if he were laughing at her but Michonne thought it an odd reaction to her observation. This conversation had gone from confusing to frustrating that quickly. She just didn't understand what he was getting at with all this talk about Daryl.

"Well, you'd have to ask him," Rick replied, a bit of coyness in his tone. Michonne figured the odds of that happening were too infinitesimal to bother with. "What I can tell you is that Carol's been about as important to this group as it's been to her. She's a survivor but she thrives on taking care of us because it's who she is. And we take good care of her in return. Daryl? He probably could'a left at any time and he'd still be kickin' ass somewhere in the world. He chooses to stay here and protect us the way he does. He's put down roots with us and it's tapped into this whole other side of him. It's a shame the way Merle died but he was holdin' Daryl back. Away from him, Daryl stepped out of his shadow and became a man."

At this point, the both of them had stopped working and were facing each other, tools and supplies in hand. Michonne was intrigued to hear these things about her travel companion even if Rick's intent was dubious at best.

Michonne shifted and turned away for a moment. "Is he supposed to be my mentor or something? Like in some sort of at-risk survivor program?"

Rick laughed. "When you put it like that? Maybe." They got back to working.

"You know, we're all works in progress in this world. There are things we need to learn from you too, Daryl included. There is still a lot he's not ready for. But he's gettin' there too. Maybe you'll help with that."

Watching him, Michonne was at a loss over what to make of the situation. It made her uneasy, not in a completely unpleasant way but definitely in a confusing way. The unsolicited pep talk was frustrating to hear, even though she was sure it came from a good place. She tried not to judge other people's trauma and she wished others wouldn't judge hers so often. But she pushed down her annoyance and accepted his advice for what it was.

Michonne wiped her hands on her pants and followed Rick as he went back to the prison courtyard for more wood. However, when they arrived, she turned to go inside. "I think I'll leave you to it. I'm not sure I can handle any more of your counseling today," she joked. But the words came out more tense than she'd intended.

Rick appeared too self-satisfied to be phased by her retreat or her tone. "Thanks for the help. See you soon?"

"You bet," she replied, disappearing inside.

TBC ...

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**_AN: Thanks for reading!_**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Splintered Part I**

The quiet returned to the library as an echo of footsteps retreated down the hall. Daryl turned his chair back around and pushed it into the table, wincing at the scraping sound it made.

The meeting had just broken up, having run longer than everyone would have liked. Sasha, Glenn and Carol had dispersed to go about their usual business; Hershel remained to gather the notes he'd taken during the council discussion. There had been a lot to talk about because of all the projects the group wanted to organize for the spring. Priorities had to be outlined and supplies rationed out. Decisions were made about infrastructure and security now that the prison's activities were more predictable. It was a tiring agenda but there was a satisfaction to having a game plan going forward.

Things had been pretty quiet around the prison as the winter set in and it was shaping up to be a mild one. A month ago, Carol warned of major adjustments needed to their infrastructure if the weather got too bad. Any kind of serious snowfall was going to make certain tasks pretty difficult. Well into the season, nothing too dramatic had come to pass, thankfully. That didn't mean people weren't looking forward to more wild weather. It'd be nice when they didn't have to thaw out their water to wash or sleep in three layers of clothes under a pile of blankets. The kids especially were itching to get outside more and away from so much adult supervision.

Daryl knew of one person who was getting particularly antsy though.

What was becoming typical prison life was also making Michonne stir-crazy. She did her best to keep busy now that their runs were less frequent. They had planned well over the fall and the risk of straying too far or too long these days didn't seem worth it. She exercised a lot and volunteered to help with any chore that needed an extra set of hands. They were still working on fortifying the entrance as well as the fences and Michonne was heavily involved both in the planning and the installing. And when she couldn't be outside getting her hands on something, she wasn't much for socializing. She'd mix some with the people she knew better but he'd often find her alone in the library with a book or in her cell doing exercises or looking over maps.

He'd sit with her at times; it wasn't as nice as their road trips yet the conversation and company were welcome moments. Mostly, they chatted about the usual stuff. More and more lately, she was fixated on getting back out on the road and her urgency about it was starting to trouble Daryl.

These worried thoughts must have shown on his furrowed brow because Hershel was now staring at him with concern of his own.

"Something the matter, son?"

Daryl figured he looked like a damn fool just standing there lost in his musings. But something was bugging him and maybe the old man was a good person to talk to about it.

"Just thinkin' 'bout stuff that came up in the meetin' is all. You gotta minute for me to run somethin' past ya?"

Hershel lowered himself back down in the chair. "Sure. Obviously it's not a topic you feel comfortable sharin' with the council?"

Daryl shook his head. "Naw. It's more personal." Hershel gestured for him to continue, pushing his papers to the side. Daryl circled the space to lean against the table edge nearest to Hershel. The closer proximity made the conversation seem more private, not that there were any prying ears around to eavesdrop. "You know that run we got planned day after tomorrow?"

"Right. You and Michonne were gonna go out and locate some supplies we need for the crops. Is there a problem with the plan?"

He paused, not used to talking too much about his private thoughts. "The plan's good. We can do that kinda run in our sleep. But we were talkin' 'bout it—me and Michonne, you know?" His nerves were creeping in and Daryl had to ignore Hershel's grin hidden behind his full beard. "She mentioned goin' on some longer trips once the weather lets up. We been keepin' an eye out for the Governor every time we get on the road but if he's hidin' away, he aint close by no more. He disappeared. Been pretty sure 'a that for a while. But Michonne, she wants to pick up the hunt again and I just don't think it's worth it."

Hershel didn't respond right away and he didn't seem particularly surprised by Daryl's confession either. "What did you say to her when she mentioned it?"

Daryl sighed. "I aint said nothin' either way." It wasn't fear holding him back; he wasn't intimidated by or afraid of Michonne. She'd never given him reason to be. Instead, he was worried about how she'd react if he told her he didn't want to go out searching for the Governor anymore, no matter how good his reasons were. They had people here at the prison to provide for; friends and loved ones to keep safe from the known threats wandering up to their doorstep every day. It didn't make much sense to ride all over creation looking for a ghost. He wanted that prick to pay as much as she did but he wasn't about to go off on a fool's errand to make it happen. It was a simple enough decision to him.

The more complicated part was that he didn't want her to go either.

He and Michonne had spent a lot of time out in the world together, handling most of the pre-winter runs. They knew how to get things done and everyone respected them as a team the group could rely on. It helped that they got on real well from the beginning. He thought she was funny and clever and good company. Likewise, she was good at getting him to talk about himself without making it seem nosy or stupid. She dealt with him at face value without any judgments or preconceived notions. And to her, what he had to say mattered as much as anyone else, usually more. They both felt the most relaxed when they were with each other because they didn't expect more than the other person was willing to give. Daryl was afraid that telling her he wanted to quit looking for the Governor was going to ruin all that.

"What do you want from her?" Hershel asked, sensing the conflicting emotions swimming around in his head.

Daryl shrugged. How could he put his concerns into words without coming off like a coward? Realistically, he understood that he didn't need to put on airs for Hershel but old habits were hard to break.

Frustrated, he chewed at his bottom lip and shuffled his feet a little before settling back against the table. "I want her to stay her ass here!"

Hershel raised an eyebrow at his outburst. Daryl had forgotten the man's aversion to unnecessary cussing.

"Sorry, man," Daryl offered but Hershel just waved it off. "I aint the only one worried about her," he continued more calmly. "Rick don't want her wanderin' out there neither. She and Carl have gotten tight and it'd do that kid in if somethin' happened to her. And he still feels bad about almost turnin' her over to the Governor before. He don't wanna be reminded of it every time she leaves and there's another chance he can get his hands on her."

The thought made Daryl's blood run cold. He'd seen what the Governor had planned for her. The memories of that, in addition to the murder of his brother and all the other people killed, drove him to want revenge on the bastard in an even worse way than Michonne. That disgust, however, just wasn't enough anymore.

"We aint seen nothin' from him for months. I sure as hell don't want to be out there. I'd rather work on protectin' what we got here, maybe start layin' out traps and bringin' in some game."

"There's nothing stopping you from doing that, Daryl. I can't say I understand how much you two want to find that man but I know it's important to the both of you. You gotta work out on your own how far you're willin' to go with that. She can't decide for you and you can't make choices for her either."

Daryl hopped up on the table, pushing aside his crossbow. "I get that. Done made up my mind on it," he replied, sounding anything but happy about the decision. "And I know she aint there yet. But tellin' her that? It's like I'm bailin' on her, sendin' her out there on her own. I don't want her to be out there by herself at all and she's not gon' wanna hear that. She's always goin' on 'bout how she can take care 'a herself but she don't need to do that no more. I don't mean to get into her business but she's spent too much time on her own already and it made her a survivor but it stole some stuff from her too. I know there aint no use for her cryin' over it 'cause she didn't have no choice then." Daryl shook his head mid-rant, so confused about this woman who he'd come to care about. "She's got choices now and it don't gotta be like it was. Gettin' her to see that is like talkin' to a brick wall." He clinched his hands around the table's edge to keep from fidgeting from all the tension he was building up. Damn, this woman for being so hard-headed.

Stretching out, Hershel massaged at his amputated leg before leaning back into the chair. "I've gotten to know her quite a bit these last few months. She feels strongly about what's important to her but she's one of the most practical people we've come across. A solitary life is what she's known out in the world for much of the last year and a half. Gettin' used to people again, learning to share their company and accept their kindness, it takes time too. I imagine you know something about that as well."

Daryl did know and learning to expect anything but brutality from people hadn't come easy. He still wasn't always comfortable with it given how many years of his life were spent having people take out their worst on him.

Scratching at his cheek, Hershel continued. "You're better off bein' straight with her. She'll respect that even if she doesn't agree with it." A jovial smile peeked out through his heavy beard. "Not that I'm sayin' it's gonna be easy. She's a stubborn one and scary when she wants to be."

Daryl chuckled, acknowledging exactly what he meant. "She don't scare me. That girl's bite's a sick one for sure but I've gotten used to her bark." The two men sobered and Daryl's worry crept back in. "Just don't wanna let her down. Folks done that to me my whole life and I don't wanna be that way with nobody here." Daryl had never shared the specifics with anyone but he didn't have to. They'd seen the kind of man Merle was and his father wasn't any better, nor his mother who was too damn drunk all the time to be of any help to him. He'd never had any good friends or family worth a damn and there'd been nobody in his life he could ever rely on. Not until now. It sucked and he wasn't going to be the kind of man that did that to other people.

And what he didn't say to Hershel is that he especially didn't want to be that way with Michonne. They'd watched each other's backs, saved the other's life a few times. She'd opened up to him in a way she hadn't with anyone else in the group. And he genuinely valued the simplicity of their relationship along with her quiet strength and the warmth that she only shared with a few other people. He was ready to admit that she was a good friend to him. He didn't want to lose that and this entire situation was screwing things up between them.

Hershel gave Daryl a comforting pat on the knee. "You don't have to worry about that, son. You're doin' what's right for you and for the group. She'll understand that. You only have to be honest with her. And I happen to know that she thinks very highly of you." Daryl hoped he wasn't blushing. He knew Michonne respected him but it wasn't anything she'd said, more how she acted with him. It felt weird hearing someone say it out loud. "Whether she wants to find her place here or carve out a role doin' somethin' else, you can advise and support but it's for her to figure out. You or I may want different for her but it's still her choice, like you said."

Daryl continued to fidget as if he was unconvinced, biting at his lip and looking away. And Hershel's explanations, especially about what Michonne thought of him, were reassuring yet it also stirred other complex emotions that could threaten the simplicity of their relationship as well.

"Maybe I'll talk to her 'bout it on the way back from the run. If she comes in all pissed off, you know what happened," he joked.

Hershel stood again and patted Daryl on the shoulder. "Things will be fine between the two of you. You'll see. It's enough that you're even worryin' about it in the first place. But I think these days, we all know how short life can be—too short to push away the people that care about us."

Daryl handed Hershel his papers. "I hope so. Thanks for the advice."

Laughing, Hershel hobbled towards the door. "You're welcome and good luck. You're gonna need it." Daryl grinned and headed out after him feeling better about what he had to do.

TBC ...

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_**AN: As always, thanks for reading. The feedback and alerts and PMs are much appreciated and very helpful so lots of love to y'all for that.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Splintered (Part II)**

Carl and Michonne were sitting in a corner perusing their respective comic books and casually monitoring the training exercise going on across the room. Daryl was instructing Carol on a better stance than the one she'd been using. Tyreese was doing the same with Karen, although he appeared to be doing more flirting than advising.

On one of their runs, Michonne and Daryl had picked up some boxing equipment just for laughs, a friendly jest about who would kick whose ass in a fair fight. They had no idea that the people in the prison would take to the activity so enthusiastically. The boxing was a good way to keep in shape and it got out a lot of the nervous energy people had being cooped up inside for such long periods of time.

Neither Michonne nor Carl were paying close attention to the couples in front of them, Carl because of how absorbed he was in his comics and Michonne because of the many things she had on her mind.

She and Daryl were scheduled to go on a run the next day and something was definitely off about the situation. Though they had hit the occasional tight spot, most of their runs were pretty fun and relaxing despite the unspoken goal of their trips or the necessities they were securing. They could make a competition out of anything, from who could kill the most walkers to who could make the quickest lunch. Michonne held the title for the former while Daryl was reliably better at the latter. He taught her his tricks for tracking animals and she taught him her tricks for tracking walkers. On any given trip, at least once they'd bicker over a choice of music or the other's driving skills, barely realizing that they spent the entire time getting to know each other better for all the shared ribbing.

This trip felt different and it wasn't coming from her. Usually they were both excited to get out on the road where it was quiet and their focus was simple. It had been a while since there'd been a need for any errands; she thought Daryl would be itching to stretch his legs a bit. Turns out it was only she who was eager to enjoy the deviation from the group's routine.

For the last few days, when Daryl wasn't avoiding her, he was being cagey about the details of the trip instead of joking about all the trouble they were going to get into. He was on edge and that wasn't like him. When it came to scouting and hunting, Daryl was cautious while being assured and steady. He didn't do nerves; that was reserved for anything involving emotional discomfort like hugging or accepting praise or admitting when he was in pain. It didn't take much speculation to decipher the meaning behind his changed attitude or explain why he was dreading their trip.

He wanted to quit looking for the Governor.

She thought it rather kind that he was so stressed about telling her. That was Daryl. He was a tough old stray, ferocious and feral as was expected. Yet his loyalty couldn't be questioned, the glimpses of vulnerability making him so damn endearing. They'd gotten close and, more importantly, they'd long relied on each other. It was going to be strange breaking away to do their own thing.

She understood his wariness at the suggestion to branch out and continue searching for the Governor. He had a good thing going at the prison. He was really cementing his place here, had friends and responsibilities and a routine. With being on the council, he was becoming more of a leader. And leadership looked good on Daryl. Michonne had only known him a short time compared to many of the others but it was remarkable the confidence and compassion she'd seen develop in him over the last few months. The way he and the others contributed to making all of their lives better gave her faith in the strength of this group. It made sense that he needed to be around dealing with business at the prison and not out looking for the lingering threats.

Michonne didn't want to complicate his life by making him choose, not when she was in no position help him fulfill an obligation as important as maintaining the stable life of the people around them. Like so many others, she and Daryl were broken people but he had found a way to put himself back together. She didn't think she'd ever be able to do that.

Scanning over the edge of her comic book, she noticed how calm everyone was, doing normal activities and relaxing as if they'd always known this life. Daryl was still fussing at Carol about her form. When he caught Michonne looking, he shook his head, gesturing at the rest of his people in the "ring". Then he stormed back to his corner before he lost his temper on them. The exchange would normally amuse her but it only reminded her of what she was about to give up by pursuing her quest without him.

She wasn't going to deny that she had a good thing going with this group too but it was different. The benefits to her were more about finding a purpose and people she cared enough about to protect. Unlike the others who thrived on having a community surrounding them, she felt safest at a distance from the civilization they were cultivating. Every relationship she built was an attachment that could end up cutting her to the bone. Or it would be if she ever allowed anyone to get that close, which wasn't in the cards for her. These people needed Daryl to be one of them in every way; they only needed Michonne to be useful.

And it was too dangerous to have the Governor out there somewhere, a loose end dangling and ready to hang them. When she had the chance to take him out, she'd failed. Because of her weakness, he'd gone on to kill Andrea and Merle, Milton and the rest of his own people from Woodbury. It was a dire mistake that she planned on correcting. She wasn't willing to let it go.

She and Daryl would just have to protect their chosen community in their own ways, no matter how sad it felt for their personal relationship. It was the best thing for the both of them. Maybe on the way back from the run, she'd let him off the hook; explain how she understood where his place was now. He didn't have to feel bad about it or worry about her either. Killing the Governor was on her now.

"Why are you scowling?" Carl asked at her shoulder.

She hadn't been paying attention to what the boy next to her was doing. When he was absorbed in his comic books, he was usually pretty oblivious to the world. Her frown transformed into a smirk.

"Was I scowling?"

Carl laughed and lowered his book. "Definitely scowling. And it's not because of Batman, I can tell." He pointed to the glossy title now sitting at her lap.

She sighed dramatically. "Can't get anything by you, can I?" Her laugh at his expression implying the obviousness of that statement drew the attention of a few bystanders. Not too many were used to hearing that sound from her. "Just thinking about my run tomorrow," she replied, ignoring the curious stares.

"You got a bad feeling about it or something? Maybe you shouldn't go." His concern warmed her.

"No, it's nothing like that. We'll be fine." They glanced over at Daryl who was glaring at Carol and Karen going at it, if you could call it that with the casual way they were fighting each other. "With the spring coming, I figured I should get out a little more than I am now."

This time it was Carl that frowned. "Why would you want to do that? If we have what we need here then you don't need to be out there so much." The way he'd stated it, so matter of fact, made the request sound simple. It reminded her that for all Carl had experienced, he was still a child in many ways.

Her relationship with Carl was pretty uncomplicated: she tried to treat him like an equal. He was forced to come of age in this bleak reality and he survived better than most of the grown folks around him. He deserved her respect. But there were still some things she wanted to shield from him; the dark feelings she had for the Governor were in that category.

That's not how things went with them though. They were honest with each other and didn't allow any bullshit on either end.

"I'm thinking about loose ends out there. The longer we go without a sign of him, the more I worry about everyone here. And he needs to pay for the things he's done." Her hand stiffened around the book she held, wrinkling the delicate cover. The declaration was cold and seething with repressed anger.

Carl was silent for a while as he pondered her admission. "You can't search for him forever, you know. At some point, you're gonna have to stop and come back to us. Come back to stay, I mean." She glanced at him, surprised by his words. He backed down slightly at her pointed stare. "You can keep us safe from here. Maybe help us with some farming too?" he added a bit too casually.

Michonne's lips tightened as her temper flared. She didn't want to get into it with Carl about her struggles to stay in one place and let her guard down. She wasn't looking forward to getting into with Daryl either. After these months of acceptance, it was frustrating having to explain herself now, no matter the well-meaning reasons that spawned the concern. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that Carl's suggestion was made out of an appreciation for her and their friendship and it calmed her some.

Point taken with a quick change in subject to boot. Michonne welcomed the redirection.

Expression softening, she closed the book at her lap. Carl's newfound farming responsibilities was a topic she could handle. They'd been over the situation a few times in the past months as Rick insisted Carl ease back into being a kid again. Still, she didn't like him potentially using her encouragement against her. "Farming _can_ be fun, right? That's what I told you?"

"Yep, that's what you said." He smirked but she gave him some credit for not being completely smug about it. "Besides, if you were around, maybe I'd have an easier time with it. We can learn how to farm together and forget about taking care of people all the time. That's what dad would say anyway."

She nodded. "Yes, that is what he would say." Once again, Carl revealed just how smart and observant a kid he was.

"And we can't hang out like this if you're gone." He looked her in the eye as he spoke those words. It was a sober statement, heavy with subtext that hit her where it counted.

"True," Michonne responded without challenge. A few more people had wandered in while they talked and were cheering on one woman or the other. The added sound further masked their already quiet conversation.

Trying another tactic, Carl pointed towards the group across the room. "Who's gonna kick Daryl's ass if you're not around." He grinned at seeing Daryl throw his hands up as Carol stumbled backwards after a hit from Karen.

One might not think so by simply looking at Daryl and Michonne, but the two survivors were pretty evenly matched. What Michonne lacked in brute strength, she made up in agility and technique. Maggie said they were fun to watch because they didn't hold back and were by far the funniest shit talkers of the group. And neither ever took a win or loss to heart. It was also one of the rare instances where people got to see the light-hearted version of Michonne, an amusing sight but no less deadly.

Michonne watched the current spectacle with her young friend for a while and experienced a moment of hesitation about her choice. It was nice to be around all of this, even if she wasn't as active a participant as the others. What if she did find the Governor and killed him? What then? Would she return here and get more involved in the daily life of her community or would she find another way to distance herself from the thriving humanity of this group? Would she follow a similar path as Daryl, finding a way to shatter the walls she'd built up to protect herself? They were compatible but they were very different people. She had a feeling that those differences would drive the direction of her future at the prison.

All she could do was keep going forward and hope that these people understoodd her choices when everything was said and done, Daryl included. At least she hoped he would understand.

A tight smile crossed her face as she turned back towards Carl. "Don't you worry. I will always make time to kick Daryl's ass."

Carl scrutinized her almost to the point of discomfort. Finally, he nodded and returned his attention to his comic book. "I guess if you stay out there longer at least one of us will be having some adventures that don't involve reading about it in a book. And if you do find him, we'll all sleep better at night."

That's why they got along so well. At the end of the day, it was more important to support each other's decisions than force their will. Was the friendship between her and Daryl strong enough for that too?

Michonne chanced another glance at Daryl only to see him staring at the two of them, bold curiosity in his expression. He turned away quickly upon noticing her attention. That additional bit of disconnect was disappointing. While she accepted why they had to go their separate ways, she would miss him. She already did.

He was where he needed to be, though, and soon, she would be too.

Michonne returned to her reading and the rout across the room continued on with people heckling or cheering every so often. She and Carl shared an amused exchange when Carol was declared the winner, awkwardly fist-bumping Daryl with her gloves on. After the excitement died down, Daryl made his way towards the corner where they were sitting, out of the way but with the full room in view. There was a smirk on his face so she knew exactly what he had on his mind.

"You up for showin' these losers how it's done?" he asked. Despite his swagger, the request was almost shyly delivered. It was the most normal thing he'd said to her in days.

Carl, nudged her in the arm. "Yeah, you guys really need to beat the crap out of each other," he offered with a grin. Two sets of raised eyebrows turned on him. Their shocked annoyance was met with a challenging humor from the young man. Nothing got past this kid.

Michonne shifted her head to consider the man standing in front of her; again she pushed down the feeling that something was coming to an end between them. It crossed her mind that she should start severing some ties with him to alleviate the sting of it. However, acknowledging what she saw in those insecure, world-weary eyes assured that she'd never give in to that impulse. If she couldn't always have him watching her back, she could at least keep him on his toes while on safe ground, the community that guided both their motivations surrounding them.

A guarded smile greeted the hand he offered to her. Reaching out, she allowed him to pull her up to her feet.

"You're on. Just don't get mad when I leave you in the dust." Hands slowly falling away from each other, their gazes caught for a beat longer than necessary, both realizing the subtext of her words. She would continue on her journey outside the prison walls and he'd own his rightful place inside of them.

They retreated together, walking shoulder to shoulder towards the center of the room. Things were going to be different between them after this run, more distant and less private. But maybe if they tried hard enough, they'd find a way to continue the fight together somehow.

TBC...

* * *

**_AN: My ambition to get this all posted by the weekend has been shamefully thwarted. Apologies for that. But the new deadline is Monday or Tuesday and we'll see if I can stick to it. Two more chapters to go and (finally) they're going to be between the man and woman of the hour. _**

**_Continued thanks for the reviews and PMs and alerts and just plain still reading this thing. I really do consider the feedback as I'm editing so feel free to keep letting me know what does or doesn't work for you. _**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Precipice (Part I)**

For the first time all week, the sky was clear and the sun was shining brightly enough to encourage a sweat. The windiness of the previous months had died down leaving more idyllic and warm spring days.

Daryl made his way across the prison yard to the makeshift stable Rick, Michonne and Tyreese had built a few weeks ago. Even though the prison had been a better haven than anyone would have imagined, it was strange to see it now home to a proper garden and livestock area. Over the winter, they'd spent a lot of time making plans and this was the result: the promise of fresh food, a few pigs thrown into the mix and an intricate system of security measures to make it easier to get in and out as well as control the endless walker population that found its way to the gates.

He'd just left the outdoor kitchen area where Carol was getting ready for the evening meal. When he heard the commotion at the front gate, he took his leave, Carol nodding to him as he left. As he made his way through the grounds, he noticed that people were milling around, almost relaxed in the way they went about their business. It was clear that the tension and anxiety weren't running as high as it had been six months ago. Everyone in the group had worked hard to make that happen, whether it was clearing walkers, helping with construction, organizing supplies or doing any necessary manual labor.

And then there was Michonne.

She'd worked like a beast over the winter to help plan a lot of the fortifications. It was almost an obsession with her at times, Daryl felt. It wasn't anything she'd said at the time but he figured she was preparing for the day she wouldn't be around as much. She wanted to make sure this place was protected when she wasn't there to do it herself.

They had gone on their last run together over two months ago and it was still difficult getting over the change. He didn't regret giving it up; what he was doing for the prison by being around everyday felt right to him. But he missed it all the same, like you missed the comfort of a well-worn shirt or a Friday night beer. And he missed her as well. They'd come a long way in a short time.

Daryl did get out some, to hunt or on short runs to places they were familiar with; nothing like before though. On those trips, thoughts of the prison and what needed to be done there were never far from the surface. There was never that freedom of being a survivor out on the open road and the company was never as good. He enjoyed setting out traps with Rick even if it was still a little awkward relating to him as a farmer rather than the leader. And it wasn't that teaming up with Sasha was terrible. She was smart and organized, just not as easy to work with as Michonne. The girl had a very different style than he was used to; she could get real bossy and that would rub him the wrong way. Still, mostly they got along fine. It was one of those things he had to live with when he'd agreed to take on more responsibility with the group.

The change in routine wasn't so bad at first because he was holding out hope that Michonne's solo excursions weren't actually going to become a regular thing. Even she wasn't willing to waste fuel on frivolous trips to search for the Governor. Finding that damn horse when she and Rick had gone livestock hunting made the reality of her departures inevitable though. Since then, she'd been gone almost weekly, often out for days at a time only to return and head out again soon after. It worried him because what started out as another way to gather supplies and keep tabs on their area now seemed like a convenient escape, in addition to a desperate mission for revenge.

He thought about mentioning his concerns to the council but that didn't seem like the right thing to do. So far, it'd been a pretty useful resource for the group. Michonne scouted out the surrounding area in ways they hadn't been able before, going off-road and taking time to actually mark off the places they'd already hit or might want to explore in the future. He and Sasha had been using the information to plan their next big supply run.

The most frustrating thing about Michonne's wanderings was that her trips weren't compromising anything so he didn't have much of a leg to stand on to get her to stop. She wasn't hurting anyone; at least not on the surface. Her absence had an effect on people though, whether she wanted to face that or not. Carl worried about her when she was gone and had even asked Daryl about ways to keep her at the prison longer. Rick was concerned too yet he was willing to let it play out for a while to see how things progressed. After all, she could end up giving up the search on her own.

He didn't care how she rationalized it, it wasn't good for her to spend so much time alone and dwelling on the Governor like she was. And what if Michonne found exactly what she was looking for?

Some of his concern was that he wanted a piece of the Governor himself; he'd envy her the satisfaction of taking him out. Mostly his thoughts centered on her well-being, though. Even with her need for retribution and closure, who's to say she'd come back from whatever encounter she had with him? Sooner or later, her luck was going to run out and it made him sick that it'd happen with her out there on her own.

That's what had him heading towards the stables to check-in with her. When he heard the activity at the gate where none was expected—excitement but no alarm, no engines and the echo of a horse's cadence—he knew she had returned. It had been a three-day trip this time. Judging by the light load Rick carried into the prison building, she'd found something useful while she was gone. It didn't matter how much or how little she returned with, she'd be back on the road before he could spit. There'd be no putting off this conversation; it was better to get to her sooner rather than later.

Only her horse could be seen in the distance and he wondered how he'd missed her going inside. But as he got closer, she finally came into view, moving from the far side of the stable where she was cleaning and storing her gear. She looked tired but also strangely invigorated. Whatever she got out of being on her own wasn't wearing her down. It reminded him of how excited she'd be whenever they'd spend a few days out on the road instead of just a same-day hop to a spot and back. He'd been able to give it up when he found something worth replacing the exhilaration of those adventures. Michonne, instead, thrived on it.

Michonne peeked over her shoulder at his approach and smiled. He returned it, genuinely glad to see her.

"Hey," he said, leaning against the fence. He could have walked around to the gate and come inside the enclosed area but it felt a little like encroaching on her space. "Heard you strolled your lazy ass back here." Amusement flashed across her face to match his fading grin.

She picked up her saddlebag from the ground and hung it on the fence. "Had to come back and make sure you're not sleeping on the job." Her expression sobered and she turned her attention back to her equipment. "No sign of him." Of course, she didn't have to elaborate on to whom she referred. There was a tightness to her words, an air of aggravated defeat that lacked the usual bite of her anger. That part of her admission surprised him. That she hadn't found him was obvious too. If that were the case, she'd either be explaining how she'd killed him or they'd be heading out right this second to take him out. Truth was, he wished she hadn't mentioned it. The reminder just brought up the lingering powerlessness and guilt he felt for not being out there on the hunt with her.

Instead of responding, Daryl only nodded.

"Maybe you'll stay for a while then?" He wasn't one to beat around the bush, even if it meant possibly angering her. Luckily she didn't seem to take offense at his prying or everything he wasn't saying with his question, particularly his disapproval. Not that she looked happy about it either.

"I'll be around for a bit," was her vague response. As they talked, she moved back and forth from her pile of equipment to the sheltered area she'd fixed up to store her gear while at the prison. "Depending on the weather, maybe I'll head back out in a day or two."

Daryl kicked the wooden post at his feet. Without thinking on it too much, he decided to push a little further. "Might wanna stay for a while longer. Got me an eye on some deer and then it's good eatin' for a while. You already missed out on the rabbit Rick caught the other day."

Daryl winced a bit at that. Talk about some redneck reasoning. No matter how many things they had in common now or how compatible they were out in the wild, she still didn't strike him as the kind of woman that would be moved by how much game they could snag or the hillbilly cuisine to be capitalized upon.

"I heard," Michonne replied. When she turned back towards him, her eyes held a softness that he selfishly hoped was regret. "Sorry I missed out. Next time." She busied herself with checking that the horse was comfortable and calm. Finally, she walked over to where he was leaning and rested a hip along the fence beside him. "Daryl?"

When she said his name like that, Daryl suspected he wasn't going to like what she had to say. Sure enough, she waited until he tilted his head up to her to continue speaking.

"I get that you don't want me going out—"

"It aint that I don't want you to." She cocked her head at the interruption, her dubious expression both intimidating and comforting.

He hadn't meant to blurt that out. It was an instinct to take control over the conversation. The last time they'd talked about this on the way back from their last run, he felt like the whole situation ran away on him. She'd tried to absolve him of any guilt he was feeling at the idea of abandoning her but it hadn't entirely worked and it didn't give him any room to really protest her leaving in the first place. Before he knew it, the final verdict was in without much of a say on his end.

Michonne rolled her eyes. "Of course, you don't want me to go. You've already said as much and you may as well be screaming it at me even when you're not saying a word. I'm sorry that I can't sit around here while he's still out there but it's what I need to do."

Daryl gripped the fence in his hands, agitated despite his hope that things wouldn't end up in a fight between them. "We done already talked about this and I get it. Just don't like you goin' out alone and so often. I know you're doin' what ya gotta but I aint never gon' like it."

She tensed. "I can do more for the group out there than in here."

"That's bullshit, Michonne. Have you even tried good? Like really tried? 'Cause when you were pitchin' in all winter, you made us a lot safer here. Only, for you, it's like it don't count or somethin'; like it matters only when you say it does. That aint how that shit works." Daryl's words were quietly delivered but insistent. As he talked, he gestured around them, at the security fortifications, the stable, the garden in the distance. "Didn't need to be out on your horse or scoutin' around to get shit done for people here. Like Andrea said, we can't make it alone no more. You told me you believed that too."

Michonne crossed her arms, defensive but unwilling to counter the truth of his observation. It was one of the conversations they had on the road that had hit him hard, her opening up about her deceased friend and how she felt like she failed Andrea. She said that making an effort with the group was like honoring her friend in a way. It was then that Daryl realized what it meant to have the loyalty and friendship of a woman like Michonne, so hurt by what this world had done to her but unwilling to completely give up on humanity; unwilling to give up on him and their group even if the idea terrified her.

"All this runnin' you doin'?" Daryl continued, squinting into the setting sun. "It aint gon' make us rely on you less. We're not gon' stop carin' just 'cause we don't see you every day. It's already too late for that." His words weren't angry. If anything, he felt resigned to her decision on this topic. There weren't any new arguments or justifications to be made. She thought it was her duty to eliminate the deadly threat of the Governor, no matter the lengths; he thought she could keep the group and herself safer by sticking close to home.

"I'm not running away. I've got unfinished business and you know that. Everything else can wait until after I find him and end this."

Sighing, Daryl folded his arms across his chest as well. "Fine, you aint runnin', Michonne, but you know I got your back on that." She nodded, without hesitation and it relaxed Daryl a bit. They were still friends; their relationship wasn't broken. It was just changing and that was hard for the both of them. He raised himself up and similarly leaned against the fence to face her. "Didn't come over here to argue 'bout it. You gon' go whether I like it or not; aint gonna change your mind on it. Thought at least you might stick around for longer though. Maybe wait until we can coordinate a bigger run and I can come with ya."

"Daryl, if this is about me going off without you, I thought it was pretty well established that I can take care of myself." It was a testament to their friendship that she was being so gentle with him when saying that. They both had abandonment issues. Bringing it up wasn't about making the other feel bad for not wanting to be left behind—no matter who was doing the leaving. "You know I always feel better when you're out there with me. Even when you're driving me crazy with the whistling and the questionable hygiene or that awful smell we've never been able to get off you, there's no one I trust more to watch my back." He grinned at the jest, warmed by her acknowledgment, as backhanded as it was. She met his gaze in all seriousness. "But that's not your place anymore. You need to be here." Pausing, she turned away, her back now against the fence. "And I'm not ready to be this normal."

The longing and fear was plain across her face, distressed over something so simple as fitting into regular life here. It was heartbreaking.

Daryl understood this. He'd been there and had a hell of a head start on her. If it weren't for Carol's love and Rick's belief in him, or if Merle was still around holding him back who knew what kind of shape he'd be in? If he hadn't had the rest of his new family looking to him for protection and trust he'd still be that guy willing to do the dirty work while tempted to jump ship when things got too heavy. There was no doubt that Michonne could experience his kind of transformation, he'd make sure of it. It would get there with time but she had to be present to make it happen.

Neither had moved from where they stood, letting the silence hang between them as they contemplated their big thoughts. No matter how frustrating the situation, he wasn't going to give up on her.

She was still looking away when Daryl reached over and pulled a few of her hanging dreadlocks. "Hell, aint nobody askin' ya to be normal. I'd settle for things not being batshit crazy for a few days at a time." Her brilliant smile encouraged one of his own as she smacked his hand away. Just like that, they were past it. Both had said their peace and it was time to move on.

"Good luck with that," she replied. Reaching around for her saddlebag, Michonne moved away from him and headed for the gate, patting her horse affectionately as she walked by. Daryl rounded the fence and met her at the opening. "So are you gonna follow me around and make sure I don't run off without your permission?" She stepped through the gate and double-checked that it was latched properly before following him across the field.

Daryl bumped her shoulder with his. "Like I got time to babysit you. Came down to tell you supper's almost on. You better come get some before all the good stuff's gone. Figured you aint had a good, hot meal in a minute."

"No rabbit though?" Her hand moved to grip one end of her katana as was her usual strolling stance.

"No rabbit but maybe Carol whipped up some squirrel to make up for it. Or might be a possum or two in the pot." He chuckled when she wrinkled her nose in distaste. No, definitely not a redneck kind of girl. He rather liked her for that, the way it kept him guessing about her. For as much as they had in common, it was nice to appreciate the differences as well. "We'll starve the city girl outta you yet. Mark my words."

Her laughter cut through the light breeze drifting around them. "We'll see. For now, lead the way," she offered.

Together they took their time returning to the prison building, facing the present at each other's side again. To Daryl, it would do for now.

TBC ...


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: Precipice (Part II)**

The sun had barely peaked over the horizon. It wasn't the most comfortable morning to be outside with the air moist and chilly despite the clear sky. Michonne tightened her coat at the neck and triple checked the fastenings of her saddle and bridle.

It had been almost a week since she'd last headed out and the confinement was starting to weigh on her. The anticipation of getting on the open road had her blood pumping faster and added a purposeful spring to her step. The solitude kept her sane and the group got along fine without her, probably better than if she was cagily lurking on the grounds all the time.

This was the first time her regret about leaving clung so strongly though.

The plan had been to hang out for a day or two before returning to her business. The two days she'd scheduled turned into four and then she'd been persuaded to stick around for an extra few. The reaction from Carl to her extended stay had been worth it, she wasn't going to deny that. Rick's subtle prodding for her to stick around was less endearing. And the open challenge from Daryl added to her conflicting thoughts even as it chipped at her emotional boundaries. He was making it very difficult to stick to her rationalizations.

She'd truly believed that no one cared too much whether she was around or not as long as she contributed, which she did. Hell, she was one less strain on their limited resources being off the grid as much as she was. It was irritating, this unwillingness to acknowledge that locating the Governor was a better role for her than whatever it was everyone did here to pass the time. When she and Daryl had been gone so often to prepare for the winter, no one had said a word about being on the road too much or it being too dangerous to continue the search. But now, Daryl and Rick made it sound like she was foolishly risking her life every time she rode out of the prison gates. It wasn't foolish if she had a good reason for going.

Her and Daryl's awkward conversation from when she'd first ridden in a week ago hadn't been the last she heard on the subject from him. He cared about her and she appreciated it. She cared about him too. It didn't change a damn thing about where they were coming from.

Adding a few items to her saddlebag, Michonne checked her person to ensure she had everything she needed before taking off. Last time, she'd forgotten her toothbrush and, although not life-threatening, she'd felt weird not having it, less civilized somehow.

A short whistle caught the attention of both her and her horse. Daryl.

It was strange to see him up this early if he wasn't going out hunting. And she knew that wasn't the case because they'd gone the day before to get in some last minute bonding before she left. They hadn't come back with much but it had helped relieve the tension that had become an intermittent part of their relationship.

Without untying Flame, she walked over to her friend bundled up in his layered leather outerwear rather than a heavier winter coat. She got a kick out of teasing him over his look with the motorcycle and distinctive vest adorned with those iconic white wings. The redneck scoundrel with a heart of gold. Daryl's bashful hostility at her jabs made it all the more humorous, especially his denials about what a powerful draw his persona was for the ladies at the prison.

She pushed those light-hearted thoughts back. Dwelling on it would just add to her conflicting feelings about leaving and she didn't want to spoil the high she was on. The time to herself seemed even more important now, along with her higher purpose.

"You're up early," Michonne said in greeting.

"Special occasion," he replied, casually striding the last few feet towards her. He stopped at the open gate but didn't come in. "Wanted to see you off. Wish ya luck and shit till ya get back." His shy, sleepy admission was one of the cutest things she'd seen from him.

The conversations they'd had and the time they'd spent together the last few days had been difficult but it also started to repair things between them. Their connection was changing, developing into something new and undefined. They weren't exactly on the same page yet but it was progress. Michonne often thought that he'd be better off keeping close to Rick and Carol and the other people he'd grown close to. He would continue to thrive, even without her input; she would be left to her loneliness.

Yet on the days she wasn't fighting the impulse to distance herself, the days when she thought of the community as her home and didn't spend every spare minute willfully blocking out her previous life, she thought maybe she wanted what he had. Acceptance. Reconciliation. A few moments of peace where she wasn't mourning what was lost or preoccupied with what she could lose; a stretch of minutes when she wasn't working so hard to deny that those sad emotions were a part of her.

Until she was willing to settle down, until she found her closure, she wouldn't be able to commit to a role here at the prison. All in due time.

Daryl grabbed onto part of the fencing and tested out a loose board. She'd meant to fix it before she left but would have to get to it next time. "You got everything you need?" Michonne nodded. "Even your toothbrush? Don't wish that mouth 'a yours on nobody if you aint cleanin' it. Not even that beast over there," he added, pointing to her horse.

Michonne furrowed her brow at the slight but smiled nonetheless. "No need to worry, I didn't forget it this time."

He paused again, assessing the items she had strapped down to Flame already. "You get the food Carol packed for ya? I know she put aside some jerky, maybe some other stuff that'll keep."

"I got it," Michonne assured him. "She dropped it off last night." They'd had a nice chat actually, Daryl being the subject of their discussion for a bit but mostly about other things. Only a few months ago, Carol had been quite cross with Michonne. With Daryl so conflicted about reducing his runs to step up on the council, she was afraid Michonne would pressure him into continuing a dangerous search for the Governor instead of taking on more responsibility within the prison where she thought he belonged. When Carol realized that she had no intention of making Daryl do anything, that that wasn't the dynamic of her friendship with him, they'd made their peace about the situation. In hindsight, that was an amusing conversation, Carol so nervous about confronting Michonne but so determined as well, only to have Michonne agree with her completely.

"Good. Told her not to give ya too much or you'll be gone the rest 'a the month." He hung his arms over the side of the fence and leaned into the pen area.

Michonne didn't respond, not wanting to start any disagreements with him before she left. There had been enough of that to last for a while.

Several times, he'd questioned her about whether she was really trying to fit in and it had upset her more than he probably realized. Andrea had accused her of something similar at Woodbury before they parted for good; that had spelled the beginning of the end for both of them in a way. Except that Michonne got to come back from that while Andrea was gone forever. Well, it wasn't entirely true. She hadn't completely come back from that darkness. But it did make her realize that she needed to try as a way of atoning her past mistakes and respecting her lost friendship. And Daryl wasn't Andrea. Michonne also needed to try because Daryl was a good friend and he was asking that of her for no other reason than he truly thought it best. Best for her and no one else.

What she didn't want to face was the doubt creeping in; the inevitability that she'd have to give up her search when the Governor's trail was completely gone. She wouldn't dwell on that because she wasn't there quite yet. There were still many more places she could look.

"Your ride over there is holding up?" Daryl didn't much care for horses although he knew how to ride one. And he claimed that Flame didn't like him which was probably just a reaction to his dislike of her. Rick and Carl loved taking care of the horse when she was around and the kids seemed to enjoy taking care of her too. But Daryl steered clear.

"Flame is good. She'll miss the comforts of this place but she's excited to get back on the road." Michonne didn't need to express her similar feelings on the matter. "We've done all our checks and were just about to head out." However, neither moved from where they stood, Daryl still leaning into the fence and Michonne at the gate's opening beside him.

She remembered what it was like just a few months ago when they'd go out together. They had their routine fine-tuned, coordinated to the smallest detail. Daryl was always in charge of the transportation, whether they were leaving by car, truck or his motorcycle. Michonne was in charge of supplies. And they complemented each other for every task that was on the table. She knew where he kept all his tools and could back him up if something needed done in a hurry. He got wise to her organizational system quickly, where she stored weapons, food and extras of anything in case of emergencies. Little conversation or explanation was needed when they went out together.

But now Michonne was in charge of all that herself. It was only her and her horse that she needed to keep track of. It was a different kind of partnership, less rewarding but safer emotionally.

Daryl scraped the dirt at his feet with a scuffed boot before resting his eyes on her. "It was a good week with you around."

Highlights of her extended stay came to mind—the shared meals and late night conversations, seeing the progress of people living life all around her. It was nice not needing to think about where she'd sleep or if she'd have to kill her way to shelter or her next meal.

"It was a good week," she reiterated. Kicking at his shuffling feet with her own, she watched the dust settle to the ground as the silence hovered over them again. Only the sounds of the trees rustling disturbed them. No one was up yet to interrupt or distract. Michonne raised her head to meet his stare. "Not so sure your fan club agrees. I don't think they like when I come back and steal you and Rick away from the place." He waved off her teasing which made Michonne chuckle. But it was funny and warming to see how much respect Rick continued to engender even though he was no longer in charge and also how much people looked up to Daryl as their provider and protector. The latter wasn't quite comfortable with this development yet.

They remained side by side, tracking the sun's ascent from the horizon. Daryl straightened himself up and turned to face her. "Make sure you come home in one piece, ya hear. Don't think I won't drag your ass back if you stay out too long."

Her expression invited him to try and make her do anything. It was one with which he was very familiar. He smirked at her predictable response and she returned it.

"Well, we can't have that, Sleepyhead." She reached between them to ruffle his still unkempt hair, noticing that he managed not to flinch at the swift movement as she'd belatedly expected.

Instead he swatted at her hand, catching it in his loose grasp. "Cut it out," he said, grinning. But he kept hold of her hand as it lowered to waist level. The brush of his thumb across her skin was hesitant, perhaps accidental. The look in his eye was a different story though. There was concern and affection as usual; there was also some envy of her ability to shut everything out and just focus on the priority, the one thing that she felt needed to be done. Michonne was sure her own expression mirrored all that and everything else they were coming to reconcile about her time away.

Michonne stepped backwards, arm stretching, one unwilling to yield their hold to the other. Instead she let the grasp linger as their connection extended across the arms-length divide. When her fingers loosened against his, he didn't protest, however, he also didn't abandon the grip. He was the constant; she was the restless one. And it was she that pulled away, the coldness of the empty air between them a contrast to the warmth of their friendship.

It wasn't a hearty farewell hug but it suited them.

She retreated to release Flame and guided the horse out of the pen area. Daryl silently walked her towards the prison exit. At the pathway, she mounted her horse and waited for Daryl to open the barriers keeping the walkers out. Perhaps because of the cold or because they were in for a spot of good fortune, there were no undead predators loitering and Michonne got to take her time passing through.

Five minutes before she'd been eager to gallop towards the open road. The excitement remained yet Daryl's presence grounded it in the reality of what this sense of freedom cost.

"I'll be back before you know it," she called down as she passed him.

He stood beside the roped pulleys ready to seal the community back up once she'd gone. He patted her horse gently in the hind quarters at her retreat. "You better be." The concern he showed her continued to be humbling. She'd have to find something special to bring back for him along with more comic books for Carl.

Michonne didn't look back but she heard the whine of the heavy doors slamming behind her. She coaxed Flame into a trot rather than taking off in a full-blown run. It wasn't until she was about to round the corner that she chanced a glance over her shoulder to get a last view of the prison. Instead of sweeping the area, she focused her gaze on the fixed figure standing at the fence line, tracking her as she disappeared.

Picking up the pace, she held onto the image of that man watching her leave again, eagerly waiting for her to return to him. At some point, their lives would realign, she was sure of it. Their partnership would return anew in another form, spurred on by changed goals and a kinship meaningful in other ways.

Until then, she'd ride.

_The End (for now)..._

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_**AN: Thanks again for reading and for all the reviews, alerts, etc. I thought about getting a little shipper with this but I think I'll save that for another story. I quite like having this one primarily focus on their friendship and its potential impact on them. I still might add to it at some point though. There are a few ideas still stirring in my head. **_


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